What They Did on Valentine's Day
by quack675
Summary: Sequel to What They Did on Their Thanksgiving Vacation. Chase and Cameron embarking on their new life and reflecting on their old.
1. Chapter 1, Baby, Let's Play House

**AN: This is a sequel to What They Did on Their Thanksgiving Vacation. You really need to read that one first! ;) I expect this one to have two parts only, unless I get carried away. **

Cameron opened her eyes to find a small brown teddy bear's black button eyes staring back at her, from atop Chase's pillow. She could not help but smile as she sat up and reached for the little bear, only to find that it was sitting on a pink envelope addressed to her: _Mrs. Allison Cameron-Chase_.

She laughed out loud when she pulled the card from the envelope and saw a black leather-clad Elvis. _Happy Valentine's Day_ was printed across the card in red. She opened it and chuckled as the card serenaded her with, _Baby, let me be, your lovin' teddy bear,_ which was also the text printed on the inside of the card.

She shook her head in amusement as she read Chase's hand-written note: _I had an early surgery. Sorry I couldn't be here when you woke up. Love you, Me. _

She made the bed and placed the teddy bear in the center between their pillows, then went about her morning routine. Her heart melted a little bit more when she walked into their kitchen and saw a single red rose in a bud vase and fresh blueberry muffin on a plate next to the rose. Chase had even covered the muffin in red plastic wrap so that it would not dry out while she was sleeping. She was impressed with his thoughtfulness. There were not a lot of things he could have prepared for her breakfast having no idea when she would get up, but he had succeeded in finding something to surprise her.

She poured herself a glass of milk, then sat down to eat her muffin, thinking happily about the almost three months they had spent as newlyweds since making the spur of the moment decision to get married over Thanksgiving.

It seemed that House had forwarded their wedding video to everyone on staff at PPTH because as soon as they got back, they found that the hospital had been plastered with hundreds of photos of them taken from screen captures of the video. A trail of photos and arrows declaring, "Newlyweds: This Way," had led them to an Elvis-themed wedding shower in the cafeteria. It was unbelievable just how many tacky Elvis products were on the market. They had found themselves saddled with Elvis towels, Elvis sheets, Elvis dinnerware, Elvis clocks, Elvis lamps, Elvis throw-pillows, and even an Elvis shaped baking pan, should either of them ever decide to be creative in the kitchen.

They both looked rather horror-struck in the photos from the shower. She supposed it had been difficult to express copious amounts of gratitude for their matching Elvis pajamas when neither of them were exactly rabid Elvis fans prior to the ceremony. Yet, somehow they had found themselves listening to the Elvis box sets and retained the magic of what his songs had meant in their wedding, even if the majority of the gifts were going to wind up for sale on Ebay.

As her muffin dwindled, she saw The King's curling lip smiling back at her from the saucer and she started giggling, wondering for a moment about her own sanity and how they had ever reached the point where a rock and roll icon had become a symbol of their love.

When she arrived at the hospital, she went to the locker room to store her purse. As she opened the door of her locker, a heart-shaped helium filled balloon came floating out. She grabbed the string and read the note that was attached. It simply said, _Loving You_. She smiled, then wrangled the balloon back into her locker before going to start her shift in the ER.

XOXOXOXOXOX

Chase was painstakingly focused on making precise cuts for an open-heart surgery when a familiar voice came over the intercom of the OR.

"Need a consult with The King," House barked into the microphone.

Chase rolled his eyes. He had endured the nickname ever since he and Cameron had returned from Las Vegas. "In the middle of something here," he answered, not even looking up to his former boss. If he had, he would have seen that House was flanked by Foreman and the new team.

"I've got a dying patient," House said. "And I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Not my fault you picked a bunch of idiots," Chase reminded him, unaware that they could hear him or that they were exchanging worried looks among themselves. "Time for a change, remember?"

"Patient has hemochromatosis."

"Sounds like a diagnosis."

"Let me finish," House snapped.

"Open heart surgery, House."

"Don't make me come down there," House threatened.

"You wouldn't," Chase finally looked up, surprised to find the entire group watching him. "I've already made incisions. You come in here, you could kill him."

"Then listen to me for two minutes."

Chase knew the only way to make House go away was to humor him.

"Patient presented with gastroenteritis and a rash."

"Bacteria?" Chase suggested.

"Right. Because none of us thought of that," House replied. "He's become septic."

Chase furrowed his brow, considering the symptoms. "Job?"

"Tenth grade student."

"I assume you've sent your minions to do a little BNE already?" Chase noticed Foreman was scowling behind Kutner.

"Naturally. The house was clean."

"Parents have any symptoms?"

"None."

"Eating habits?"

"Crap, like every other fifteen year old boy. None of his friends are sick."

"Been out of the country?"

"Got back from Japan six days ago."

"Yersinia pseudotuberculosis," Chase suggested. "The hemochromatosis makes him more susceptible to sepsis with that strain of bacteria and more cases have come out of Japan than anywhere else."

House smiled and nodded, "That's why I fired you. Come along, morons."

Chase sighed and watched them go. He knew his current job was important, but damned if he did not miss the thrill of a differential diagnosis. Removing and repairing hearts simply did not give him as much intellectual stimulation. He hoped the poor guy on the table never found out he was thinking that while he laid there cut open. He shifted his focus back to the surgery, pushing House out of his mind as best he could.

Hours later, he came out of surgery exhausted. Despite the success of the procedure, it was far less the exhilarating than thinking that maybe he had helped House solve a case. It had felt good to be in House's office urging him to make the sun move faster. It had felt even better to hear House say, "We need you," whether it had been true or not. He was eager to find out if his suggestion had been the answer they were seeking, but his pride would never have allowed him to go to House to ask. He wearily made his way to his locker, hoping that Cameron would agree to a romantic night at home instead of going out for dinner. He did not feel much like being in a crowded restaurant.

When he opened his locker, he found a stuffed basset hound sitting in a basket full of imported chocolates. He had made no secret of how inferior he found American chocolate. While Cameron sometimes claimed to crave a Hershey bar the size of a bridge, he could not stand the texture or the overwhelming sugary taste of the brand. He argued that the best chocolate came from Belgium, Switzerland, and Austria, but that even the Australians--for that matter, even the British--made better chocolate than Americans. He helped himself to an Austrian truffle, deciding it was the perfect pick-me-up after the day he had had. He debated whether or not to take the chocolate home or leave it in his locker. Before he could decide, Foreman approached him, "House wants to see you," he said coolly.

Basket in hand, Chase extended it to Foreman, "Chocolate?" he offered. "It's the good stuff." He supposed he looked fairly silly holding the basset hound, but he had decided to put it on the bookshelf in his office.

"Thanks," Foreman said, helping himself to a medallion.

"How's your patient?" Chase asked, stuffing the basket and the dog back into his locker.

"You were right," Foreman answered, sounding more annoyed than anything else.

Chase could not help but smile. It was good to know he had not completely lost the ability to help in a differential. He was afraid that if he did not have a challenge soon, he would forget the process, the way to go about looking at symptoms and diving into the middle to see what was connecting them. Even when he realized he could do it if he put his mind to it, he knew he would never be as good at it as House was. And, now, with no practice of the game, he was likely to forget everything he knew, just as he had forgotten more French than he could remember.

Despite the thrill of knowing he got one right, he was solemn as he followed Foreman to the Diagnostic's office. He found that the place had been abandoned, save House who was bouncing a ball against the wall. _Same old House_.

"You can leave," House told Foreman pointedly. "You, sit," he nodded toward Chase.

Chase sat in the familiar chair. Everything about the Diagnostics office felt oddly foreign to him. He supposed it was like visiting your childhood home after someone else had moved into it. The structure may be the same, but it was not home anymore.

"It's a waste for you to be in surgery," House said.

"It's a job," Chase shrugged.

"Do you like it?"

"Do you care?" Chase countered.

"Not really," House conceded.

"Why am I here?" Chase asked.

"We need you."

Chase exhaled heavily, torn between wanting so badly for House to be telling him the truth and cautiously doubting the man's sincerity.

"I know what you're thinking--I'm up to something. I'm not."

"You're offering me my old job?"

"No. I want to make you senior attending."

"Foreman--"

"Doesn't have as much experience as you."

"Cuddy--"

"Agreed to let me hire you, offer you your current salary plus a signing bonus plus an extra week of vacation time."

Chase was dubious of the offer. "Do you have that in writing?"

"You're not saying no," House observed.

"You're not showing me anything in writing," Chase reminded him.

"You'll get it," House promised.

"Cameron--"

"Will be happy if you're happy."

"I don't know about that. She'll want to know why you want me back, but not her."

"Working all day long with your wife is a bad idea."

Chase was silent, mulling it over. House was right, of course. It would be difficult to separate their jobs from their home if they were working in the same department. Being in different areas had been good for them. They were close enough to have lunch and far apart enough to miss each other.

"Chase, she's not the diagnostician that you are. Neither is Foreman. He won't stick around after his year contract is up. He's leaning toward administration and it suits him. My new fellows need to get used to another attending."

"How do I know you won't fire me again on another whim?"

"You don't."

Chase frowned. That answer was not good enough.

"Change is bad," House shrugged.

"I have to discuss it with Cameron," Chase told him. There was no way he would take the job without her approval, no matter how badly he wanted it.

"Aren't you two on a first name basis yet?" House asked.


	2. Chapter 2, Good Luck Charm

"How was your day?" Chase after kissing Cameron hello. She had gone to work later then he had, but still managed to get home a few hours before he did.

"It was great," Cameron answered, happily. "You look exhausted," she observed, taking his hand and leading him to their couch to rest.

"I am," he sighed, as he sank into the cushions. He noticed the enticing blend of aromas in the air, "Are you cooking?" he asked hopefully.

"Yep," she answered, "I thought we'd spend a romantic evening at home--much better than a loud, crowded restaurant. I hope that's okay."

"It's perfect!" Chase answered.

She could tell from his expression that he meant what he had said wholeheartedly. "Thank you for my day full of surprises," she said leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

"You're welcome," he replied. "Thank you for the non-American chocolate."

"Spoiled brat," she chided him playfully.

"I have refined taste," he defended himself.

"Uh-huh."

"It applies to my taste in the opposite sex too."

Cameron smiled, "Stop it with the sweet-talking. If I get distracted, I might burn your supper."

"Really?" Chase asked suspiciously, leaning toward her to kiss her again.

She quickly moved in the opposite direction. "Really! Tonight is going to be perfect, so you're not allowed to make me forget there's a roast in the oven," she warned. "Tell you what--since you're so tired, why don't you go take a shower and lie down for a little while."

"You're the most amazing wife ever," Chase gushed, thrilled that she cared more about spending time together than about where they spent time together.

"And don't you forget it."

"I need to talk to you about something though," he said. There were only two ways this conversation could go: she would be pleased of she would be angry. If there was going to be an explosion, he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"It'll wait."

"I don't want it to ruin dinner."

"Trust me, Chase, nothing will ruin our dinner tonight!" She hopped off the couch and pulled him to his feet. "Go shower!"

"I'm serious, Allison," he implored her to give him a chance to explain.

Her expression fell as she started to worry what could be so serious. "What is it?" she asked, sitting back down.

He also returned to the couch. "House offered me a job as an attending," he announced. He was disappointed to see anger flash through her eyes.

"Why would you leave a position as department head to work for _him_?" she asked bitterly.

He frowned. This reaction was what he had feared--having to explain to her why he was interested in the job. He sighed, weighing whether he should give her a long explanation or the condensed version. "I'm bored." He went for concise, knowing he was too tired to express himself well.

Cameron stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "You were happy."

"At first, but it's boring. I miss the challenge of those cases that no one else can solve."

"You're a lot like him, you know," she said, her tone difficult for Chase to determine.

He waited for her to expound on her statement. Being compared to House was not necessarily a compliment, so he was hesitant to say anything, lest he make her angry.

"You like the puzzle. You like the chase."

"Yeah," he admitted. He did enjoy the puzzle, but he also cared about the patients.

"How much of a pay cut are we talking about?" she asked.

It surprised him that she was concerned about financial matters since they both had lucrative positions. "None. Same salary, plus a signing bonus."

"How the hell do they justify an attending getting a department head's salary?"

"You know House has Cuddy bending over backward to approve whatever he wants."

Cameron looked down, considering the situation. "I like our life, Chase," she told him. "I like working in the ER and coming home to you."

He nodded, "I'll tell him no." He started to get up, but she stopped him.

"No," Cameron said. "I want you to be happy too. You're not going to be happy if you're bored. I knew when I married you that you've got a restless mind. You need something to challenge you and surgery isn't doing it." She considered the past few weeks. She had started to worry about how weary he seemed when he came home from work. She chalked it up to the demanding precision required of surgeons coupled with the stress of his new position as the person in charge. She looked a little disappointed as she said it, but still told him, "You should take the job."

He looked up, "You mean it?"

She took his hand in her own. The glint of excitement in his expression told her all she needed to know. "We'll still have our life. Maybe we'll even get to spend more time together since you won't have early surgeries or as much paperwork to do." She moved closer to him to give him a hug. "In fact, our life is only going to get better," she promised. "I want you to be happy and if that means working for that arrogant bastard, go for it."

"Thank you," Chase returned her hug.

"Now get lost so I can finish making dinner," Cameron ordered.

"You are the best, the absolute best," Chase told her.

"I know."

XOXOXOX

While she prepared for their dinner, Cameron pondered the significance of the date. It had been exactly one year since she had propositioned Chase as they were leaving the hospital. If someone would have told her a year ago that the two of them would be married by the time the next Valentine's Day rolled around, she would have laughed in their face.

She scowled, thinking of her former self. She had been so wrong about Chase and about herself. She could never have carried on a sexual relationship with someone she did not care about. The only person she had been fooling was herself.

If she believed in the same God as her husband, she might have been tempted to thank Him for the wake up call she got when faced with the prospect of losing Chase. Maybe, she considered, she should have thanked House instead since he was the one who fired Chase, forcing her to realize that she could not bear the idea of not seeing him again. It was House's fault that she had gone after Chase that fateful day. The only thing she had been certain of at the time was that she was not ready to let Chase go. She was willing to try for "more," whatever "more" meant.

Chase was different from any other man she had known. She had treated him terribly, but he had fallen for her anyway and that was still mystery to her. She paused as she set the table. Maybe Chase had some kind of gift for reading people, seeing what they could be instead of what they were. He had brought out a playful side of her even before they were serious. He had broken through walls she erected after Michael's death and she had found herself genuinely enjoying his company and feeling light-hearted. At the most basic level, he had made her happy--whether she wanted him to or not; and that was exactly why she had gotten so angry when he admitted he wanted more. Oh, she knew already. But as long as he had kept it to himself, she could enjoy him and the way he made her feel without the pressure of a real relationship, without letting herself fall into the cataclysm of loving someone when it might all come to a crashing halt. She never wanted to go through that kind of upheaval again.

Looking back, she was disgusted with herself for starting such a vicious game without any respect for his feelings. Tears sprung to her eyes as guilt washed over her. The man she had gotten to know when she let her guard down deserved so much better than that. It pained her that Chase had never seemed to realize he deserved better. She was startled by her own tears as they slipped down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Chase asked, rushing to her side. He had come out of the bedroom just in time to see her wipe her eyes. "If you don't want me to take the job--"

"It's not that," she answered him, enveloping him in a crushing hug. She breathed in the soothing clean scent of his soap. She held him tightly for at least a minute before pulling away and speaking of what was heavy on her heart. "I was just thinking about last Valentine's Day."

He looked down, but she still saw hurt dancing in his eyes. "Oh," he met her gaze again with a plastic smile. Approximating coy, but not quite reaching it, he asked, "Sorry you made that deal?"

"Yes," she answered. It pained her that he was trying to deflect with a joke, but his own hurt still came through.

He did not know how to respond, so he was quiet.

"It was thoughtless… mean… insensitive."

He shrugged, "I went along with it." He reached out to her, running his fingers through the long waves of her hair. "Besides, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"I wish we had gotten here by a different path," she admitted, sitting down in one of the chairs.

He joined her at the table, "What matters is we got here."

She blinked back more tears, staring at the silver box wrapped in red ribbons that Chase must have set on the table when he returned from the bedroom.

"So, we had a rocky start," Chase said. "I think that's a good thing."

She looked up, curious about why he would think such a thing.

He stroked her cheek, noticing light reflect from his wedding band like a twinkling star, "We've already been through something bad. We've already been through hurting each other and sniping at each other and coming to our senses. But we didn't give up on each other. Don't you know how amazing that is? Most couples start off with the hearts and flowers and chocolate and end with the hurting and fighting. We already brought out the worst in each other and decided we could live with it. We'll keep getting stronger," he promised, closing the distance between them to kiss her softly. "I wouldn't change a thing."

"I love the way your mind works," Cameron sniffed.

"Don't cry," Chase plead.

"I can't help it," Cameron wailed, overcome by her emotions. "I never want to hurt you again."

"But you will," Chase said. "And I'll hurt you too. And we'll work it out." He used the red linen napkin that she had placed at his plate to wipe her cheeks. Distressed by how upset she had become, he reacted in desperation, reaching for his empty plate. He held it in front of his face and started singing, "_If I found a lucky penny I'd toss it across the bay, Your love is worth all the gold on earth, No wonder that I say, Come on and be my little good luck charm, Uh-huh huh, you sweet delight, I want a good luck charm, A-hanging on my arm, To have, to have, to hold, to hold tonight."_

Cameron's tears disappeared as Elvis's face covered her husband's. She had rarely heard Chase sing. Sometimes she caught him crooning a word or two while the radio was on in the car, but he had never serenaded her.

He peaked around the edge of the plate to see his wife smiling back at him. "Feel better?" he asked, mildly embarrassed that he had resorted to singing to cheer her.

"I'm so glad I decided to use the good china tonight," she deadpanned, taking the plate from his hand to set it back on the table. They had more traditional dinnerware that they typically used with their meals, but when one or the other was in the mood to be playful, they used the Elvis set. Chase had initiated the tradition in early December. He had gotten off work before Cameron one day, ordered a special meal from a local French restaurant, and set the table with candles and roses. On a whim, he had decided to wash the those plates just because he thought it would be funny if Cameron found Elvis under her _Emincé de Volaille sauce Roquefort. _She had loved the idea and they took turns surprising each other with the "special" plates.

"I just hope you want to stay married after that little concert," he grinned sheepishly.

"I love your voice," she assured him, pulling him close to give him a long, slow kiss.

They were both startled when their smoke alarm started beeping. They broke their kiss and dashed to the kitchen where smoke was coming from the stove.

"No!" Cameron cried, pulling the oven door so hard that it fell open with a bang. She grabbed two potholders and reached into the oven to pull out a smoldering roast. She and Chase both started coughing as smoke filled the air. Cameron turned on the vent above the stove in an effort to contain it while Chase opened the window above the sink and started fanning the smoke toward the window with a hand towel, hoping to keep from setting off the sprinkler system. The whole time, the emergency sensor blared.

It took a few minutes, but they were able to get most of the smoke out of the room. A thin haze remained throughout their kitchen. Chase pressed several buttons on the smoke alarm, trying to get it to stop beeping, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, in frustration, he ripped it off the wall and took out the battery. "Shut up!" he growled at the offending piece.

Meanwhile, Cameron tried to assess the damage to their meal. The top of the roast was as black as charcoal and what was supposed to be a rich gravy with vegetables was now a crusty, blackened, clumpy mess at that bottom of the dish. There was no doubt about it--it was ruined.

After taking care of the alarm, Chase came to his wife's side and took in the sight of the scorched roast. "Well," he started dryly, "That's certainly a hunk, a hunk of burning beef." His lips curled into a smile as soon as he said it and he started laughing. Maybe he was still overly tired, but he found it hysterical.

Cameron was not quite as amused. She started crying again. Loudly. She ran from the kitchen, into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Honey!" Chase called, following her, only to have the door shut in his face. "I'm sorry!" he told her through the locked door. "I was trying to make you laugh," he explained, knocking on the door and jiggling the knob uselessly. "Cam--Allison, please, let me in!" He waited a few seconds. "Please!" There was no response. "Allison?" He pressed his ear to the door and could tell she was still crying. I'm sorry," he repeated pitifully. "Please let me in." He stood there silently for a minute. "I'm sorry," he said again, sounding desperate. "I love you," he added.

A few seconds later, the door opened and he saw his wife standing there, her make-up streaked from tears and her hair a mess. He could tell from the rumpled comforter and pillows that she had been lying on the bed while she was crying. "I ruined our Valentine's," she sniffed. "It was supposed to be perfect."

"It's not ruined," he told her, taking her into his arms for a hug. "It's not ruined at all!"

"That roast looks about as appetizing as a… a…" she pulled away as she searched for an appropriate comparison. "A clump of asphalt."

"That doesn't mean it's not edible," Chase said hopefully, his eyes bright with optimism.

Cameron was certain at that moment that if she had served Chase the roast he would have choked it down and told her it was the best thing he had ever eaten just because he loved her. Needless to say, a fresh round of wailing followed as she latched onto him.

At this, Chase sighed, his brow furrowing with worry. He led Cameron to the bed to sit down. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. "You've cried more today than you have in the entire time we've been married. This isn't like you," he told her, distressed.

"I wanted everything to be perfect," she repeated. "It just had to be perfect tonight. You liked my mom's pot roast so much when we went home for Christmas, that I wanted to make it for you. I called and got her recipe to surprise you. The stupid thing wasn't getting ready, so I turned the oven up to four hundred twenty five degrees. I thought it would cook faster that way. I didn't know it would burn."

"I think it's really sweet that you wanted to do that for me," Chase assured her, rubbing her back. "It's not a big deal that it burned. I promise. It means more to me that you tried to do something so nice."

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he kept stroking her back comfortingly.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, his concern evident in his tone. "You're so sad today."

"No, I'm not," Cameron argued. "This is the best day of my life."

Chase looked down at her tear-streaked face. "Okay, now you're really confusing me," he said with a half-hearted laugh.

She sighed, wiping her eyes. "Hold on a sec," she said. She got up and left the bedroom for just a moment, returning with the box Chase had left on the table and an additional box that he had never seen before. "Let's open our gifts," she said. "We may have to heat up some Spaghettios for our supper, but we can at least open our presents, right?"

"You first," he said, offering her the silver box.

"Okay," she agreed, tearing off the paper. She knew from the shape of the box that it was jewelry, probably a necklace. Her suspicion was almost accurate. She gasp as she opened the narrow box to find a ruby and diamond bracelet in twenty-four karat gold. "It's gorgeous," she said, taking in the quality of the gems. There were no tiny diamond fragments set in silver to simulate the appearance of larger stones. These were substantial enough that they did not need enhancement. "Wow," she said. "This must have cost a fortune." Every once in a while, she was given a reminder that Chase had grown up in a wealthy family. She credited that background with his ability to choose exquisite jewelry. She would never rile him for liking fine chocolates again. The man had good taste.

He helped her snap the clasp on the bracelet and she admired the way it looked on her tiny wrist. "It's fantastic," she gushed. "Thank you." She gave him a kiss. She then reached for the box containing his present and handed it to him. "Your turn."

Chase smiled, eagerly tearing away the red paper and white ribbon. He opened the box and lifted the pink tissue paper. He saw a mint green cloth, but was not sure what it was just from looking at it in the box. He lifted it and let it unfurl. His mouth fell open. He was holding a tiny onesie. The front had a baby koala clinging its parent and the text, _I Love My Daddy_.

He was speechless. His mouth was open, but nothing came out. His eyes started to burn with prickling tears and he found it hard to look away from the koalas. _I Love My Daddy_, he read again and again. He finally made eye contact with Cameron. His expression must have conveyed his question because she nodded in the affirmative.

"Daddy?" he asked, his mind stuck on the word.

"That's you," Cameron told him, beaming with happiness.

"That's me?" He was almost afraid to believe it. The family he had craved was finally within his reach.

She nodded.

"I think it's my turn to cry," he admitted, feeling his eyes water. He wrapped his arms around her. "I didn't know it was possible to be this happy," he whispered in her ear. "Thank you so much."

"I love you," she told him, holding him tightly. She loved the way their bodies fit together, like pieces of a puzzle completing each other. Just having him close to her made her feel safe, warm, and loved.

"I love you too," he said. "Mummy."

"_Mom_my," she corrected him.

"We're not very good with names, are we?" he laughed, pulling away to study her face. She had never appeared more beautiful.

"It's a good thing we've got eight more months to decide on one for this one," she said, patting her stomach.

Hesitantly, Chase reached out to put his hand on her abdomen too. "Wow," he thought about the fact that there was a baby in there--his and Cameron's baby. "Wow."

"You said that already."

He shrugged, "It fits."

"Are you really happy?" Cameron asked. She knew the idea of having a baby was what inspired them to go to Vegas in the first place, but talking about babies was a lot different than actually facing the reality of having one. They had heard that it was better to take some time to enjoy being newlyweds before starting a family, but they were also fighting against the clock if they wanted to get one child out of diapers and have another before she turned forty.

"I'm the happiest man in the world," he assured her. "What about you?"

"I'm… overjoyed," she said. "I love you, Robert Chase. I love being your wife. I love our baby. I'm," she closed her eyes, savoring the moment, "I'm _so happy_." The words may have been simple, but they were real.

"How long have you known?" he asked her, wondering how she had managed to keep the secret.

"Officially? About nine hours. I took a home test this morning and it was positive, so I got Dr. Sutton to work me in today to make sure. I took the rest of the day off so I could make everything perfect to tell you," she sighed. "Obviously, that didn't work, but, anyway, here we are.

"It's perfect, just like this," Chase told her, holding up the onesie again. "We'll never forget this Valentine's Day."

"So, you want some Spaghettios?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Just let me heat them."

"Did you hear your daddy insulting my cooking skills?" she asked, patting her stomach. "You're going to pay for that," she warned, tackling him so that he was on his back.

He rolled them over so that he was on top. "Oh, really?" he asked. "And how exactly are you going to make me pay for that, _Mum_my?"

They forgot all about dinner.

_The End... For Now_

_AN: I hope you enjoyed this. If there's interest in it, I may continue this holiday themed series. _


End file.
